Bad Romance
by PessimisticSorcerer
Summary: When Merlin starts acting odd and a strange beast is spotted in Camelot, Arthur Pendragon wonders whether the dark forces have finally won. Merlin/Arthur slash.
1. Chapter 1

The market square was just as busy as it usually was at that time of day. Salesmen calling out about the price of their best meat, their fine leathers or their choice fur. Merlin skulked through the crowds, looking around with a strange sense of awe. Even though he had been in Camelot now for almost a year, the hustle and bustle of the town never ceased to amaze him and give him a strange giddy sensation. Perhaps this was because he'd original come here from such a small village. The 'big city' was very pretty even though, Merlin had to admit, it was a bit intimidating.

Many people pushed past the warlock as he tried to get back to the castle. Gaius had sent him out on an errand, to go and visit one of his patients and make sure that they were taking their medicine, and seeing as it was early in the morning and Arthur had already had his breakfast, Merlin was left to his own devices for a few hours. He'd seen that part of the town so many times in the past but he'd decided to see if there was anything interesting happening. Even though Camelot castle _was _beautiful, and things were constantly going on, at that moment in time it seemed a bit drab. There were no fancy competitions, no elaborate dinners, not even a measly monster attacking the townsfolk. To be honest, nothing had happened in weeks and that scared Merlin just a little. He knew, deep down, that something big was about to happen.

It was at that moment that someone pushed him to one side. Merlin toppled out of the way, but managed to regain his balance.

"Hey," he cried out, spinning around with an annoyed expression on his face but whoever had bumped into him had vanished.

_Oh well_, he thought. _It was probably for the best. _He had been told several times by Gaius not to pick fights with strangers. Look where that had got him with Arthur.

He tutted loudly to himself but kept on walking, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

His fingers brushed against something smooth. Metallic. Warm.

He stopped.

His chest was burning warm, rippling against his ribcage, fluttering against his lungs.

Merlin quickly darted out of the main square to the back of a small thatched cottage on the side of the road. His eyes darted about himself in a flurry of panic. The young manservant didn't know what was happening to him, but he did know when it had started. Reaching into his pocket once more, clutching at the smooth object inside he pulled it out and stared as the head inside of him began to spread down his arms and legs.

It was a pendant. Worn and faded lettering encircled a strange jewel that seemed to glow purple and black, like a day old bruise and Merlin could hardly draw his eyes away from it. It seemed to suck him in, whisper inside of his head, show him images that made his mind struggle to retain its' grip on reality.

_Put me on_, the pendant whispered.

"What?" Merlin's voice was barely a whisper.

_Put me on, _the pendant repeated. _I will be the gateway to your future. I will make you all-powerful._

"I--" the warlock started. "I don't want to be all powerful." The heat was now searing, Merlin's breathing becoming heavier as he tried to stay upright, unaware of what was happening to him.

_But you do. I can see it in your eyes._

Merlin quickly closed his eyes.

The pendant laughed.

And Merlin laughed too.

It had been a usual day so far for Arthur. He had woken up early, Merlin had served him what he thought was probably breakfast, even though it looked and smelt like it had taken not even five minutes to prepare, and rushed off for morning training with his knights. Arthur had then been summoned to the throne room by his father, King Uther, only to be told he was being too soft on his knights during training, and needed to harden them up for real battles that were certain to occur. After being dismissed and making his way to his chambers, Arthur had thought that he was already in need of a hot bath.

Only when he actually entered his chambers did he realise that Merlin was nowhere to be found, so instead, he had to ask another servant, who looked like he was probably around the same age as himself with very plain brown hair that fell messily around his face, to prepare him a bath.

"Thank you, you are dismissed," Arthur said lazily as he waved his hand in the unknown servant's direction. He turned to face the bathtub and heard the door to his chambers open and then close.

_Finally, _Arthur thought to himself, _some peace and quiet._ He pulled off his long brown jacket and hung it on the back of his chair before tugging his red tunic off over his head, leaving his blonde hair in disarray and his upper body exposed to the icy chill in the air. He shuddered, then carried on getting undressed before climbing into the bathtub and letting the hot water surround his aching muscles.

The young Prince let himself slip into a relaxed state as he felt the tension in his body fade away. He decided that he probably needed to wash his hair, too, so he laid back and let the water soak in before massaging his head. This would usually be Merlin's job, but since he wasn't here, he would have to make do. Arthur would surely be having words with his manservant when he next saw him; after all, it was his job to _serve _Arthur.

After what seemed like hours, even though it had probably been only minutes, he heard someone approaching his chambers with a quick pace. He hadn't been expecting anyone at this time of the day unless, of course, it was Merlin.  
He heard a knock on the large, wooden doors of his chambers, shortly followed by a voice that he recognised immediately.

"Arthur?" It was Merlin.  
Arthur felt a slight pang of relief that it was Merlin, and not someone else who he had not been expecting.  
"Oh, so you finally decided to show up did you, _Mer_lin?" Arthur did like his manservant, but found amusement in being particularly snarky towards him.

"Yes, _sire._" The Prince was taken slightly aback by the tone of frustration in Merlin's voice, but decided to ignore it. Arthur thought it might be time to vacate the bathtub now, he felt he'd been in long enough and would no doubt have to go and see his father again at some point. He got up slowly, trying not to slip.

"Could you pass me a towel?" he looked at Merlin with a raised eyebrow and held his hand out expectantly.

"_Sire..._" Merlin said, sounding almost _bitter_ as he passed Arthur the towel.

The blonde Prince frowned a little before taking the towel from his dark-haired servant, whose eyes now seemed a deeper, darker shade of bluethan before, Arthur noticed.  
"Are you okay, Merlin?"

The darkness. The never ending hatred. It had overwhelmed Merlin and taken control and now all he could feel was anger. He had never felt so powerful before, like his entire mind, all of his body, his strength was a hundred times greater. A few minutes ago he was just a lowly serving boy, fetching and carrying for the spoilt prince of Camelot. Now he was a sorcerer. A warlock. He could destroy said prince with a twitch of his fingers. But no, that wasn't fun. The new Merlin liked destruction. He liked murder. But he wasn't just going to _kill _Arthur Pendragon. Oh no. He was going to make a sport out of it.

The towel he was handing to Arthur felt warm and soft against his skin. He couldn't wait to be rid of it. Merlin mentally scolded himself, feeling the pendant cold against his skin under his shirt. He mustn't keep thinking as he used to do. He mustn't be so nice, so warm and caring. Helping people used to be the one thing he believed he was good at, and what had that ever done for him? Apart from that warm sense of satisfaction and the occasional 'thank you' Merlin had never received a penny for being so affectionate.

"I'm fine," Merlin bit back at Arthur who was watching him move towards the wardrobe in the corner of the room and open the great oak doors. He didn't have to lie. He was fine, infact he was better than he had ever been.

Inside of the wardrobe were so many regal clothes of thick, rich reds and purples, of blacks and blues, yellows and golds. Merlin would have all of these things soon, he would bring the fall of the Pendragon reign nearer and he would rule over Camelot and bring magic back to the realm. Or at least, that was what the pendant told him he should do. It whispered in his ear, such good ideas for an inanimate object. A piece of worthless jewellery. Well, it wasn't worthless to Merlin.

Behind him, Merlin heard Arthur slip into the towel.

"Where have you been?" He asked his manservant. "You weren't here when I got back. You weren't skulking around the town, were you?"

His voice sounded concerned, almost worried for Merlin's welfare and the boy couldn't help but smile. A crooked, evil looking smile. Ah, how funny it was that the prince was _finally _becoming concerned in his servant's affairs, in his life. He had never been this interested before. It was almost ironic.

"I was, yes," Merlin answered back. "What's it to you?"

Arthur said nothing in reply, but the warlock could feel the prince's eyes boring into his back.

Pulling out a red shirt, a dark pair of trousers and a thick fur coat, Merlin quickly shut the wardrobe door and span around quickly to see Arthur standing beside the bath, his arms folded, the towel wrapped around his waist. He raised his eyebrow expectantly at his manservant, but Merlin did not seem to notice.

"What's that?" Arthur nodded towards Merlin's chest and, looking down, he saw that the dirty, glowing pendant had slipped out from underneath his shirt.

"Nothing," he quickly dismissed the prince and quickly pushed the jewel back under his shirt, feeling the cold sting against his skin.

"I'm sure you can put these on yourself, _sire_," he spat. "I've got somewhere important to go." He brushed past Arthur and placed the clothes onto the grand bed in the middle of the room. Offering him a sarcastic smile, Merlin said. "You're not _that _incompetent, are you that you can't even dress yourself?"

Arthur didn't have time to think of a witty and demanding retort as Merlin had already rushed from the room, slamming the door violently behind him. And if the prince had been looking very carefully he might've seen his manservant's eyes flashing black as he was given one last fleeting look before the door shut tight.


	2. Chapter 2

Stunned and shocked at the way his manservant had just acted towards him, Arthur shook his head in disbelief as he turned his gaze away from the doors where Merlin had just made his exit. He picked up his clothes off the bed, and flung them over the screen which he was about to get changed behind just in case anybody decided to waltz into his chambers.

Arthur put the last item of clothing on, which happened to be the fur coat, and decided he should probably go and see Gaius about Merlin's behaviour. _He might know what's wrong with him, _Arthur thought as he made his way to the chamber doors, opening them when he got there. He paused, thinking about whether or not Merlin would be with the physician, and then came to the conclusion that he really didn't care if he was or not. After closing the heavy door behind him, he made his way down the large, stone corridor that led to Gaius's quarters.

Once arriving at the door, Arthur thought about just storming in, but felt this would probably be bad manners. He decided to knock and wait until he heard a voice, Gaius's, come from the other side.

"Who is it?"

"It's Arthur," he stated, loud enough for the old man to hear, "may I come in?"  
"Ahh, Arthur. Yes, of course, come in, come in!"

Arthur opened the door gently and stepped in. He saw a friendly smile form across Gaius's face, so decided to smile back, after all, it was only polite.

"Thank you," Arthur said kindly, "I trust all is well? I'm actually here to ask you about Merlin."  
"Yes, all is well, thank you Sire." Gaius nodded, the smile then faded from the physicians face, seemingly at the mention of Merlin. "What is it you wanted to ask?"  
"Have you..." the Prince paused, "have you noticed anything _different_ about him?"

"I'm sorry, Sire," he looked at the floor before looking back up at Arthur, "I have not seen him since this morning, and he seemed perfectly alright then."

"Right, thank you anyway," Arthur turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks when Gaius spoke again.

"What is _different _about him, Sire?" Arthur could hear the concern in Gaius's voice.  
"Everything," he remembered the way Merlin had _looked_ at him, he could still see the _hatred_ in his eyes clearly in his mind. "He's just... He was just very sharp, almost _resentful_ towards me. There was another thing I found quite odd, too..."  
"Oh?" he saw Gaius's eyebrow raise as he urged him to keep going with his sentence.  
"He was wearing some sort of pendant, which was odd in itself. I don't think I've ever seen Merlin wear jewellery," Arthur frowned and looked at the floor as he pictured the pendant, trying to visualise it, "it was, I think, if my eyes weren't deceiving me, _glowing._"

"Are you _sure, _Sire?"  
"Not completely certain, but fairly sure," he looked at Gaius, who now seemed surprised and maybe even confused, if the Prince was not mistaken. "Will you be sure to report to me if you find anything out, Gaius?"  
"Of course, Sire, of course," Gaius gave Arthur a nod and slight bow before Arthur turned and headed towards the door.  
"Thank you, Gaius," a small smile graced Arthur's face as he opened the door and lingered in the doorway, "I'm just worried about him."  
"Understandable, Sire."

The young Prince nodded and headed out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Merlin had his head pressed against the thick wooden door of the physician's chambers. He had just been wandering around the castle, fists clenched, chest rising and falling rapidly, constantly making agitated grunting noises and beating his hand against the cold stone walls in annoyance. Yes, he knew that he shouldn't have lost it with Arthur. Now he would get curious about why his manservant had suddenly taken on this completely new personality. Now he would let Gaius know, and his uncle would keep an even closer watch on him. That piteous old fool, he always acted as if Merlin was his underling, as if he couldn't do anything on his own. Always pressurising him into situations that he didn't want, or telling him off for doing things his own way. Well the _new _Merlin wasn't going to stand for that.

But he had to be wary.

Merlin knew that he shouldn't be so blunt with Gaius. That man watched him like a hawk, even the slightest twitch of the mouth, the smallest flex of the facial muscles and he would be found out. The old Merlin had to come back to prominence for the time being.

Leaning against the door, Merlin could hear every snippet of conversation. He could hear the concern in Gaius' voice and in Arthur's and he had to place a hand firmly over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Caring? It was all an act. They had to pretend that they cared because if something _was _wrong with Merlin then they would have their favourite little slave to order around. Without Merlin Camelot would go to the dogs, or so they had told him.

Arthur's footsteps and his signalling to leave gave Merlin all the noticed he needed. He sprang out of the way of the door and, with cat like skills, dodged around the nearest corner, peering around at the prince's back as he called back into the room.

Quickly he retracted his head as Arthur, obviously aware of someone's eyes upon him, looked at the exact spot where Merlin had been crouching seconds earlier. With a shake of his head, he moved around the far corner and out of sight.

Merlin exhaled loudly. He was only just getting used to his new powers and he didn't believe he would have been able to keep his head if he bumped into Arthur again so soon after his last explosion.

Making sure that Arthur had left, Merlin slipped out from behind the corner he was hiding and made his way to the wooden door. He unhooked the latch and walked inside. Gaius' eyes met with his own, slightly darker ones, immediately.

"Merlin", his voice seemed to waver. "How are you? Did you deliver all of my remedies?"

"Yes," Merlin replied, a little bluntly. He realised that Gaius was raising an eyebrow and so tried a smile. "Yes, I did."

The warlock could see the cogs whirring fast in his uncle's mind. Whether he should tell his nephew about the prince's visit or not. His stern face and sudden smile cause Merlin to think that maybe he wasn't going to be told.

"I'm a little tired," Merlin told Gaius. "Arthur has given me the rest of the day off. I'm going to go upstairs," he pointed vaguely towards the stairs.

"Well," the physician looked a little worried. "If you want me, I'll be downstairs."

"Thank you, Gaius," he replied and descended the stairs into his room, the door swinging shut behind him.

He had no inclination to sleep.

He had a plan.

Not long after Arthur had reached his chambers, sat down on the fur-covered chair and started flipping a small knife around, that there was a loud, hammering knock on the chamber doors. He had rather hoped it was Merlin coming to apologise for his previous behaviour, but was then disappointed to find that it was Sir Leon, probably coming to give him orders from Uther. Arthur wasn't wrong.  
"Prince Arthur?" Leon peered his head round the door timidly.

The Prince stopped playing with the knife and looked up, "yes, Leon?"

"King Uther requires your presence immediately," Leon replied, Arthur rolled his eyes at the news, stood up, and began walking over to the knight that was still just lurking in the doorway.  
"Why exactly does he _require_ my presence?" Arthur asked, beginning to twirl his knife yet again.  
"A feast has been arranged, Sire. Very last minute."  
"Great. Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can," he turned away and began walking over to his wardrobe, "thank you, Leon, you can go."  
"Sire," the knight nodded and left.

Arthur opened his wardrobe and pulled out his bright red, gold studded jacket, a smart red tunic and some black, leather breeches. He got changed as quickly as he possibly could without ending up looking a mess. _This is odd, _Arthur thought as he slipped his gold, metal bracelet on, _Merlin should be here helping me get ready._ He felt strange not having his manservant around to tease and have a joke with. Arthur added the final touches to his outfit; this included his red dragon tooth necklace which hung on a black lace, and finally his gold, jewel-studded crown. After pulling on his newly-polished boots and exiting his chambers, he made his way to the dining room which was overflowing with people and food. He found his father sitting on his large, wooden chair and made his way to his own chair, which was situated on his father's right, and sat down.  
"Father," Arthur nodded, acknowledging Uther.  
"Ahh, Arthur, so nice of you to join us," Uther stood up and raised his voice for everyone in the huge room to hear, "I present to you my son, the heir to the throne of Camelot, Prince Arthur."  
Arthur stood up as everybody began applauding, but he said nothing; simply nodding and smiling to the vast amount of people in front of him. He and Uther sat back down and Uther carried on his conversation with his ward, Morgana. Eventually, after a lot of long and uninteresting conversations with the people around him, Uther turned to Arthur, but only to inquire him about his missing manservant.  
"Where is that insufferable manservant of yours, Arthur?" Uther frowned while looking around the beautifully decorated room, quite clearly trying to spot Merlin.  
Arthur replied with the first thing that came to his mind, "He's ill, father. I've given him the rest of the day off."  
"You're too soft on him, Arthur!" Uther raised his voice, causing a few people to look around, seemingly eavesdropping on the conversation. "You ought to get yourself a new manservant, one that's not quite so... _Useless._"  
"He's ill, I don't just give him days off when he feels like it, Father," Arthur protested. "It's hardly Merlin's fault. Besides, he's not _completely _useless. He does have his uses."

"If you say so, Arthur," Uther looked at his son with a suspicious look, "you seem to be very attached to him, you must remember he is only a servant." Arthur turned his head to meet Uther's scrutinizing stare, and then looked away almost immediately.  
"I know," The Prince replied, before having a sip of wine from his goblet and glancing around the room. It was so busy, so crowded and almost too loud for Arthur to bear. He decided he'd been there long enough, a couple of hours at least, he was tired, and so asked his father if he could leave.  
"Father, can I have your permission to be excused from the remainder of the feast? I'm not feeling too well," he shuffled his chair backwards, and got prepared to get up and leave.  
"Of course, Arthur, you are dismissed," Uther said before biting into a shiny, red apple. "Will you need Gaius's assistance?"  
"No, I don't think that will be necessary father, thank you," Arthur got up and left. The cold breeze of the corridor hit Arthur as he stepped out of the dining room. He found it to be quite refreshing and took a deep breath before making his way back to his chambers to relax.

The young Prince sighed as he leaned back on his door, closing it in the process before wandering over to his bed. He took his jewellery off and placed it in the draw next to him, this was then closely followed by the removal of his belt, boots and jacket, which he flung onto the chair. Arthur yawned as he sat on his bed, twisting himself round and lying back until his head hit the red, silk pillow. It took only a matter of minutes for the Prince to fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin let the cold night air rush in through his lungs as he stalked through the town streets. Everything was quiet, not a single man, woman or child stirred from their sleep. Not a guard in sight, shouting at each other to 'hunt him down'. Not even the royal household would know what he was about to do. It was such a wonderful feeling. The feeling of power.

As if in agreement, the pendant pressed against his chest gave a delightful shudder.

A small smile spread across the warlock's lips. He was going to have some fun tonight.

The voice in his head was egging him on but he wanted to try out his new found power first. Peering in each window to check for a house that was deserted, Merlin finally found one. A run-down little shack, thatched roof caving in, door-less, everything inside either pillaged or broken. Perfect.

Muttering under his breath, Merlin pressed his hand out in front of him, arm stretched, palm open wide. His eyes flashed gold and, as if by magic, flames sprung from inside of the house. Within moments, the fire accelerated by the potency of Merlin's magic, the shack was ablaze, the flames licking at the dark sky. Smoke snaked its way up to the moon.

"Excellent," the manservant hissed, realising the full extent of his power and turned to the next house. This one was occupied. The timber on the roof and the wood on the walls and floor burnt easily. The screams inside were not burnt aswell. They pierced Merlin's ears, made him clasp his hands to them. Obviously his previous self had something to say about this. He ran back along the cobbled streets as doors began to open and shouts began to echo about the town.

He had to get back to the castle.

To warn Prince Arthur of the impending danger Camelot was in.

At least, that's what he would tell him.

Arthur never needed to know it was _him _that burnt those people in their beds. According to Merlin, or at least, what Merlin had seen was a huge monster with a ridged back, dripping fangs and large, powerful muscles calling forth the magical daemons within that set fire to the house and killed the people. The fire had spread and almost burnt down the entire street.

Such a brilliantly practiced story. How could it possibly go wrong?

Merlin burst into Arthur's chambers, panting and sweating. He had quickly rubbed some ashes onto his face to make himself look as though he had attempted to battle the fire.

The prince immediately shot up, glaring at his manservant for interrupting his sleep.

"_Mer_lin?!" Arthur cried. "What on _Earth _do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sorry, sire," Merlin panted. "But there's a fire been started in the town."

Arthur quickly jumped out of his bed, standing bare foot and bare chested in the moonlight. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know about this?"  
"I was there. This great monster with large teeth and a scaly outer body and spiny ridges along its back and down its tail," he nodded and watched for the prince's reaction. Surely such accurate detail could fool the prince.

He frowned but said nothing. Flinging himself at the wardrobe, he pulled out the nearest piece of clothing he could find and ordered Merlin to go out and help the townspeople.

"But, sire," Merlin stopped himself at the door, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I saw the monster skulk off into the forest. I could take you there, and you could defeat it before it causes anymore harm?"

"Good idea, Merlin," Arthur seemed genuinely shocked. "I never thought I'd say that to _you_!"

"Only here to help, sire," a slimy smile crept across Merlin's features.

That was when Arthur knew that something was wrong. Where was the snidey remark? The sarcastic quip? This was definitely not the Merlin he knew. But this was no time to falter. There was a dangerous monster on the loose. He would just have to deal with his manservant when they returned.

"Fine," Arthur nodded after a moment. "Show me where it went."

Arthur followed his raven-haired manservant down the large stone hallways and eventually out of the castle and onto the courtyard. All he could smell was burning, all he could hear was screaming, and all he could see was panic. The next thing he knew, his arm was being pulled by a woman, she looked like she'd tried battling the fire too, and lost. Her face was blackened with ash and her skin burnt here and there. She was shouting at Arthur, begging him to do _something._

"Please! Sire! Help me! I can't find my children in all this panic!"

Arthur knew he couldn't help her, he had to go to the forest - he had to follow Merlin, who, at the moment, was just stood staring at the Prince and the panicked, middle-aged woman with a very dark gaze and a blank expression.  
"I'm sorry, I can't help you - I have something to do!" Arthur heard the own panic in his voice as he said this, but then remembered something. His knights. "I shall get a few of my knights to help you."  
"Thank you, Sire!" the woman looked relieved at this idea.  
Arthur spotted Sir Leon helping a small boy to the castle steps, and called out to him.  
"LEON!" The Prince saw Leon turn his head in his direction.  
"YES SIRE?" The head knight called back.  
"CAN YOU GATHER SOME KNIGHTS TOGETHER? AND COULD YOU PLEASE HELP THIS POOR WOMAN FIND HER CHILDREN? I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO GO - IT'S AN EMERGENCY!" Arthur knew that Leon would probably try to follow him to the woods and help him if he told him where he was going, but he decided that his knights would be better off in the town helping with the residents of Camelot as they battled the fire that had been unleashed.  
"OF COURSE, SIRE!" Leon made his way over to them, and Arthur turned to the woman in front of him.  
"You'll be safe now, but I have to go," he gave a friendly smile, saw that Merlin had turned to set off towards the forest and quickly caught up with him, leaving the woman in Leon's capable hands.  
Merlin was now walking quickly, not saying a word. Arthur decided enough was enough.  
"_Merlin,_ what's _wrong _with you?" he said as he grasped Merlin's arm, spinning him around to face him.  
"Nothing, _sire._" Merlin gave Arthur a dark smirk and snatched his arm away from Arthur's hand, turning around to face his previous direction and continued walking. The Prince gritted his teeth but set off again, following Merlin into darkness as they finally reached the forest.  
"Will you _slow down,_ Merlin?!" Arthur said while looking down and fighting with a few branches, trying to clear his path. He heard no response. Arthur looked up and realised he couldn't see Merlin anywhere, all he could see was blackness and the trees that surrounded him which were illuminated by the light of the moon.  
"MERLIN?" Arthur shouted, now standing still to allow him to hear clearly, "MERLIN! WHERE ARE YOU?" Still nothing. Arthur began to run further into the darkness, hoping that he might come across Merlin, still shouting his name.

It wasn't long before Arthur came to a small clearing in the trees and stopped. He looked around, his sapphire eyes still trying to spot Merlin in the surrounding darkness. Arthur heard something and spun around to find someone approximately an inch away from his face. It was Merlin. Arthur couldn't get over the closeness. He couldn't get over how, dare he think it, _beautiful_, Merlin looked in the blueness of the moonlight. The way his dark hair shone and the way his blue eyes glinted.

"Merlin..." Arthur whispered quietly; it was the only word he could think of to say.  
"Arthur," was the reply from Merlin, who was also whispering. It was a different kind of whisper to Arthur's, it was sinister.  
Arthur closed his eyes and managed to think more clearly, "Merlin... What... What are you doing?" he felt a warm breath against his cheek as Merlin leaned forward to whisper in Arthur's ear.  
"_This..."_ Merlin's smooth cheek glided across Arthur's as he moved his head backwards, until he was face-to-face with the handsome Prince once again. Arthur was taken by surprise when he felt a cool hand on his face, before feeling Merlin's soft, perfect lips against his own. He was being _kissed_. By _Merlin_. Arthur didn't pull away, instead, he deepened it. There was something irresistible about Merlin, something Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on. The blonde opened his eyes to look at Merlin, seeing his eyes glow a dark shade of red. The Prince didn't have time to pull away and ask any questions before he felt himself slip out of consciousness, into blackness, being firmly held up by his manservant.

"Ugh," Merlin grunted as he heaved Arthur's body through the cold earth. He was heavy, much heavier than the weedy manservant and so in about half an hour they had moved but a few metres.

Dropping the prince heavily, Merlin let out a loud sigh of exhaustion, wisps of his breath vaporising in the air in front of him. He had two possibilities, two ways in which he could do this. It was like having an angel and a devil on either shoulder.

The warlock smiled. He could almost imagine the agitated twitch of the angel's wings, the voice in his mind telling him;

"You've got two options. But mine's much better. Just leave the prince here. No one had need to know that _you _were the one that set fire to all of those houses. Just walk away from this while you still can. You know Uther'll have your head when he finds out. And he _will _find out."

Merlin stared at the sleeping prince. His chest rising and falling slowly, his eyelids fluttering as he dreamt. He almost smiled at the tranquillity. Almost.

"Don't forget," the devil told him, testing the sharpness of his pitchfork by prodding it with his finger. "You've got to kill him too. And any good villain has to have an equally good lair. Go and find yourself a nice spooky castle, or church. Chain him to the wall and have some _fun._"

That was appealing. Fun.

The kiss. That had been fun.

"Don't be so disgusting!" The angel was affronted. "Kissing a _man_, let alone kissing the crowned prince of Camelot is disgusting. Besides," he leant against Merlin's neck and let out a loud sigh. "I don't see what all the fuss is about. I mean, ladies are always throwing themselves at our boy here and kissing him is like kissing a foxes' behind. N-not that I've ever done that."

"Sure," the devil scoffed.

Merlin hooked his arms under Arthur's own once more and began dragging him again through the forest. He was picking up pace, the sound of shouts and screams of fear slowly drawing in, just like the darkness of the night. It was cold, and foggy and Merlin could barely see his hand in front of his face, let alone the hordes of Camelot's finest knights sent out to hunt him down as soon as Uther learnt of his son's disappearance.

"The lair," the devil hissed. "Just use your magic, float him out ahead of you and then you can get to somewhere faster."

The manservant raised an eyebrow. That was a good idea. He could just use magic on Arthur. If he woke up (which was, of course, unlikely. He wouldn't be waking until Merlin _wanted _him to wake) and saw his servant was using magic, what was he going to do? Get his daddy to kill him? Unlikely. Merlin could destroy Uther with a single flex of his muscles.

He smiled to himself.

Perhaps the devil was right.

Or, perhaps he was just going insane.

Either way, it was a good idea

"_Fleoge_," Merlin outstretched his palm above Arthur's unconscious body and it lifted from the ground. "Good idea," he acknowledged the figment of his imagination upon his left shoulder.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," the angel harrumphed and disappeared in a puff of white smoke.

"He's only envious that I'm right," the devil winked and also vanished, this time in red smoke.

Merlin shook his head. "I _must _be going insane."

A large decrepit church stood upon a tall cliff, battered by the wind. Inside, Merlin had set up a small fire and begun to tend to his captive. He removed his shirt, letting his fingers lay upon Arthur's cold, bare chest. His tunic, originally white, was covered in mud and bark from the short time that the warlock had attempted to drag him across the forest floor.

Merlin let his hands wander up the prince's body until they reached his lips. A small, devilish smile played upon his own as he placed his finger upon Arthur's bottom lip and began to play with it somewhat.

He had kissed these lips what seemed like moments ago. The angel was wrong. It wasn't bad at all. They were soft and tender, just like he had always expected them to be, watching them move as he sat across the room, scrubbing at faded armour. They tasted so good.

As if in a trance, Merlin rose to his feet, still watching Arthur's sleeping body, and bent down again in the corner, feeling around blindly with his hands in his satchel until he found what he was looking for. He tested their strength. They chinked happily in his hands, tough as when they were first forged. In his other hand he held something soft to the touch, leaving black powdery marks upon his fingers.

"Oh, we're going to have some fun here, Arthur."

The chains were black, chipped in places but that didn't seem to make much difference. Grabbing at his jacket, Merlin threw it to the floor beside him. He reached behind his neck, briefly rubbing against the bottom of his hair as he untied his neckerchief and let that fall into a heap on top of his jacket. Clenching his hands under his shirt, he pulled it up and over his head, feeling the cold night air pricking against his bare skin. The pendant gave a twinkle of blood red glee, the same colour, in fact, of Merlin's eyes.

When Arthur awoke, the first thing he noticed was the stinging pain and coldness on his wrists. He then realised that he was now actually chained by his wrists, hands above his head and his cold, bare body revealed to the frosty chill surrounding him. Arthur looked around, slightly dazed still, trying to figure out where on earth he was. He could tell that wherever he was, it was probably some form of abandoned building. A church maybe. It certainly looked like a church, but Arthur still wasn't sure. He tried tugging at the chains with as much strength as he could muster to see if he could detach them from the stone wall which was rough against his back. It didn't work.

Still not fully coherent, he could've sworn he heard Merlin's voice, and looked up to find him stood directly in front of him.  
"Mer... Merlin?" The Prince said, sounding hoarse and wincing from the soreness in his throat.  
Merlin smirked and took a step so he was even closer to Arthur. He lifted the blonde's chin with his finger and looked at him as though he was inspecting him, turning Arthur's head slightly to the left and then the right.  
"Oh, _Arthur_," Merlin ran his hand through Arthur's blonde hair, and then tugged his head backwards, baring the Prince's neck. Arthur flinched at the sudden movement, closing his bright blue eyes tightly, only reopening them when he felt the warmness of Merlin's breath against the skin on his neck, making its way upwards until his manservant's lips were hovering above his, "we're going to have some fun."  
Arthur's eyes widened as he stared at Merlin, "w-what? Merlin, what are you going to do to me?"

He laughed against Arthur's mouth and pulled away, grinning as he did so, "Silly, pretty Prince," he gave another evil chuckle, still looking into Arthur's eyes, "I think the question is, 'what am I _not_ going to do to you?'"

Merlin released Arthur's silky hair, leaving it tousled, and took a step backwards. The Prince's head returned to a more natural position, his eyes still focused on Merlin. Fear was beginning to race through him as he realised just how vulnerable he was here, chained up and unable to defend himself.

Arthur only had one question for Merlin right now.

"Why?" he choked out, "why are you doing this? I don't understand..."

Merlin tilted his head slightly to the side and frowned, "I don't think I need to give you a reason, _Sire_," there was that bitterness again, "if you haven't noticed, you're completely at _my_ mercy."

He smirked again and stepped forward to press his bare hands against Arthur's toned, muscular body before scratching faintly, but hard enough to leave a mark, down his chest, causing the Prince to take a sharp, deep breath. Merlin smiled menacingly once again and turned around, breaking the eye contact between the two of them.

Arthur watched his beautiful but pale, half-naked manservant, who, in the light, seemed to have a glow about him, walk over to a shadowed corner of the large, fire-lit room. All he could do was observe Merlin as he crouched down and fumbled around until he had found what he was obviously searching for.

A small gasp escaped Arthur when he realised what Merlin was holding in his hand. Although the Prince was rarely afraid of anything, at this very moment he was scared. Really scared. He tried to put on his brave face again as Merlin made his way back over to him, clutching a small, shiny, metal knife.


	4. Chapter 4

The rubies upon the hilt of the knife shimmered in the moonlight that was creeping in through the gaps in the crumbling brickwork. Merlin had stolen it that very day from the castle kitchens and, with a rock from the forest, had sharpened it back to its full glory. Now it would do _his _bidding. It owed him.

He moved to the man strapped expertly to the wall, the chains chinking against each other as Arthur tried to move, struggle against his restrains.

Merlin pressed a finger to his lips trying to hush the writhing prince. He pressed his cold hand against Arthur's bare chest and felt him recoil, not just from the temperature but apparently from fear. The warlock felt a smile spread across his face. He flicked the knife idly between his fingers and then placed it against Arthur's chest, in between his ribs. And pulled.

A long dark red line was formed, blood bubbling to the surface. His captive hissed in pain, and Merlin saw Arthur biting his lip as to not show his emotions.

"Very good," he whispered and moved the knife a little lower, cutting just a fraction harder.

Again Arthur made a noise but tried to cover it up.

"What are you doing?" he asked his manservant, almost in disgust. "What's gotten into you?"  
Merlin tutted. "So many questions but am I really going to give you all of the answers just like that?" He clicked his fingers.

"I thought you were--" Arthur started. "I thought you were my friend."

"Oh," the warlock chortled. "I'm much more than that." And he caressed the prince's body, running his fingers between each rib, catching the hilt of the knife under his arm and bringing it down again. He bit his lip and giggled. A strange playful giggle that sounded strange coming from Merlin's mouth.

He turned back to the corner he had come from - not without another well aimed slash from the blade, another laugh escaping his mouth - and bent down, rummaging in the satchel he had brought with him. He had pulled it out earlier but in the excitement of the moment had dropped it back in. He cursed under his breath. In a moment of weakens, of lapsing back into his previous self, he had brought too many things. Unwanted things. Now he couldn't find what he needed.

In a bout of rage he picked up the bag and upturned it, weapons, food and water tumbling from within it and rolling across the floor into cracks and crevices. Merlin kicked at the limp bag and swore loudly, his eyes searching for what he was looking for. Something glinted just out of his vision. There it was. A small piece of charcoal lying just a little off. He had obviously put it there from when he was looking through his bag earlier.

"W-what's wrong?" Arthur tried to sound concerned, craning his neck to try and see what Merlin was doing.

He just laughed and walked over to pick up the small piece of soft rock. It excreted black dust onto his fingers as he picked it up.

"Nothing's wrong my dear prince," he turned around and smiled. "Everything's just perfect."

Arthur scowled when Merlin mentioned the word 'perfect', because as far as the wounded Prince could tell, everything didn't seem perfect. Not at all. Something was very wrong. Arthur could now feel the slow trickle of blood crawling down his body from the narrow cuts, and the stinging pain that went with them. He felt himself tense and cringe.

Arthur eyed his manservant carefully, paying particular attention to the small, black rock in his hand. If Arthur wasn't mistaken, it was charcoal. _What the hell does he need charcoal for? _Was Arthur's next thought. That question was answered when Merlin started to draw lines, circles and other patterns on his arms, stomach and chest with the charcoal. Every now and again he would write words which Arthur didn't recognise, so it was obvious it wasn't English.

"What _are_ you doing, Merlin?" Arthur tried to sound as brave and patronising as he possibly could under the circumstances.

"You'll see." Merlin replied, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The blonde was now confused, as well as scared. He could feel his eyes closing slowly as he was weak and starting to feel tired. He wondered how long he had been there and whether he would ever get out, alive or even dead.

Another sensation surprised him as he felt Merlin's finger trace the trail of blood that was streaming down from the small laceration in between his ribs. Arthur's eyes widened again when he saw his manservant grin wickedly before running his smooth finger up and down Arthur's torso, spreading the blood in thin lines. The next thing the Prince felt was Merlin's bare, but also charcoal-decorated chest against his own and cold hands on his waist, holding him tightly.

Arthur could feel his manservant's warm breath teasing his neck, followed by a small but sharp nip which had obviously been caused by Merlin's teeth. It hadn't been enough to break the surface of the skin, but it had still hurt and caused Arthur's breath to hitch. Merlin laughed into the skin on Arthur's neck, and started muttering some words, which Arthur couldn't make out. Whatever he was saying, it sounded beautiful, the Prince thought. But then came the pain.

Merlin pulled away from his Prince, leaving a dusting of charcoal on his chest. The contact between his left hand and Arthur's waist did not break, instead, he dragged his hand across Arthur's body to his chest - only then did he break the touch. This, however, didn't break the constant pain, the burning sensation, that was repeatedly lashing at his skin, leaving small, sore, red marks. He couldn't think. All he could do was writhe and cry out as the pain increased. He could hear Merlin, still chanting, and still so close to Arthur. Every now and again, Arthur would feel Merlin's hand touch him, which only made the pain even worse as the cold skin brushed over the soreness of the burns.

The glow of red in Merlin's eyes grew brighter, stronger it seemed, and the pain Arthur was experiencing only got worse - it was now white-hot against his skin, like someone was attacking him with a hot iron, causing him to fight back the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"S-Stop! Please!" the Prince cried out weakly, hoping it would at least distract Merlin from his chanting, which was getting louder and louder. He noticed that the pendant resting on Merlin's chest was now shaking and lit brightly. It looked like it was about to explode, like it was struggling to cope with the increasing surge of magic.

Arthur thought he was going to pass out from the pain which was now not only affecting his outside, but also affecting his inside. His vision was blurring and his head was pounding, he could feel sharp pain surging through his veins, not fading for a moment. He closed his eyes tightly through determination; trying to fight the pain. This was torture of the highest form.

Suddenly, Arthur felt Merlin's hands once again, one gripping the side of his face, the other grasping his blonde hair tightly. He then felt his manservant's warm lips on his, kissing him harshly, roughly. The Prince was now breathless - due to a mixture of the sub-siding pain and the fact that Merlin was kissing him so violently, making the kiss deeper still. Arthur didn't want it to stop.

Eventually, something forced Merlin backwards, breaking the kiss. Immediately noticing the loss of contact, Arthur opened his eyes. He focused on Merlin; his sight was coming back as the pain dimmed. He saw that the pendant was now cracked; a jagged line down the centre, and a bright, red light still emitting from it. Moments later, half of the pendant shattered into tiny pieces, showering down towards the ground, making small tinkling noises as they hit the floor. Then, to Arthur's amazement, the manacles that held him opened, clinking as they did. He fell to the ground, barely able to keep himself from collapsing completely. The hard floor was ice cold and painful, but nothing compared to what he'd just been through.

The Prince looked up at Merlin, who was standing, staring down at him. The first thing he noticed was how soft and kind Merlin's eyes now looked, unlike before when they had seemed cold and cruel.

"Arthur?" Merlin managed before he broke down completely, slumping onto the ground.

"Merlin?" Arthur forced his body to move so he could be closer to Merlin, "is it you? Are you okay?"

"Arthur... I'm so sorry!" Tears started running down his face, "I... I remember everything. I couldn't stop... I tried so hard to stop, to fight it... I'm so sorry..."

"Merlin – it's okay," Arthur found the strength to wrap his arms around Merlin, holding him in his arms with Merlin's head resting on his chest. He didn't care about the small burns that seared with pain because of the contact, he just gently started wiping the tears from the dark-haired boy's face, "it's okay..."

Everything was flooding back. Like a strange tidal wave rushing against the shore and pulling pieces of damp sand back in. Lost at sea. That was how Merlin felt. He couldn't help but let the tears stream down his face, sobbing into Arthur's lap as he curled himself up, grabbing at the material of his trousers in a desperate attempt to hold onto something. To make sure that he didn't get pulled out.

"I-I don't know w-what happened," Merlin choked through tears. His bottom lip quivered as he thought of all the things he had done, everything he had said. He had tortured Arthur, the prince of Camelot, his friend. He had done terrible things to him and _enjoyed _it.

Arthur made a soothing noise and stroked his manservant's hair gently.

"I--" he began, but broke down in a wave of sobs once more.

He had done so many awful things. He had revealed his magic to Arthur and he would surely be executed for such a cruel act. In the town that very afternoon he had purposely _killed _people.

"I-I killed people," Merlin cried, grabbing at Arthur's trousers. "I killed people, today in the town. I set fire to their houses. I'm a murderer," he spat the words out onto the floor as if trying to get them out of his system.

"It wasn't you," Arthur told him, pressing a hand onto his forehead trying to calm him down.

"But it was! I used my magic and I burnt them alive!"

The prince tensed slightly at the word 'magic'. Just a muscle spasm, just the tiniest movement but Merlin had felt it. Knowing everything else he had done was painful enough, but that had been like a dagger to his heart. Arthur would never accept him after what he had done, but now his secret was out he would cast him away without a second though.

So why was he being so kind to him?

"It's okay. I know it wasn't really you."

"B-but it was," Merlin's head shot out of Arthur's lap. He was staring into the prince's eyes and all Arthur could see were two, red-rimmed blue orbs, tears brimming over. "I-I tried to fight it but I couldn't. It was too strong."

The pendant lay cold and dead against his bare chest and Merlin grabbed hold of it, breaking the chain around his neck and threw it across the church floor. It chinked and pinged against the rock and then lay still, the warlock's eyes firmly placed upon it.

"That was what made you into a monster."

"A m-monster?" Merlin's eyes opened even wider. "T-that's what you think I am?" His heart seemed to break in two as Arthur faltered. "You _do_! That's what you think I am!" He threw himself backwards away from the prince, his mouth upturned in a strange sort of anger, his eyebrows furrowed, the tears slowly coming to a halt. The sadness he felt was being replaced with outright rage. "It's because I'm magical, isn't it?"

"No," Arthur whispered.

"You're lying," Merlin hissed.

"I'm not."

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry, you're a monster because you can turn a shield into a live snake. You can kill griffins and drive Afancs back and, and make swords out of dragon's fire to kill the undead and -- and you save my life all of the time but y-you're still a-a m-m--" Merlin broke down again, unable to speak anymore he brought his hands up to his face and started to cry into them.

Arthur reached towards his manservant to try and apologise by Merlin batted him off and shuffled away across the floor.

"Merlin, please," he pleaded. "You know what I meant."

The manservant's eyes were shining with tears. He wiped his nose hard on the back of his wrist and watched the prince's movements, slow and reserved as he tried to approach him.

"It doesn't matter that you're--" Arthur stammered, as if choking back the word. "Magical."

Merlin's eyes widened. "Y-yes, look. Right there. You can't _bare _to admit it. I can see it in your eyes."

"T-that's not true, Merlin."

"You're a liar."

"I'm the prince of Camelot, Merlin."

"You're still a liar."

Arthur looked as if he too was about to burst into tears. All he could manage was a small laugh and a shake of his head as he rested back on his haunches. The manservant watched the prince's fair hair, tousled about his head. He was so perfect, Merlin thought the world of Arthur, or at least had done until now.

"You know what?" he cried. "If you think I'm such a monster, why don't you just kill me?"

Still not quite believing what Merlin had just suggested, Arthur frowned and begun to protest.

"Kill you?!" this was the loudest he'd spoken in a while, and it was harsh on his throat, he decided to speak quietly again, "why would I want to kill you? It wasn't you, Merlin, I know you tried to fight it... I know that."

"But you think I'm a monster! I know you do!" Merlin let out another sob and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. This was quite a contrast to what Arthur had witnessed before; this Merlin was the Merlin he knew, the one he cared about.

"I do not think you a monster, Merlin," he leaned forward, and, on all fours, moved his way closer to his manservant, "you were also the victim here. We just need to find out how you got that pendant."

Merlin sniffled and looked up, noticing that Arthur was now closer to him. "If I'm just a victim in this, why do I feel so damn guilty?! I _killed_ people, Arthur! I can never forgive myself for that... I just can't."

"I know you can't, Merlin, not yet anyway," Arthur smiled; he couldn't help it, he was glad to have his Merlin back, "but it's really not your fault. You weren't _you._ You are the kindest person I know, you wouldn't do anything like that on purpose."

"How do you know?!" he sounded about as weak as Arthur felt, "I've managed to keep my magic from you for ages! I might not be who you think I am!"

"If you were really a murderer Merlin, you wouldn't have saved my life hundreds of times..." Arthur worked his way closer to Merlin still and pulled him into his chest, hugging him, trying to make him feel as safe as he could, "we need to get out of here, Merlin. We need to think of a believable story to tell my Father."

Merlin pulled away and looked at him, his face now worried and scared.

"You can't tell him about me, Arthur! You can't!" This only made the Prince hold him tighter.

"I'm not going to, Merlin, don't worry. This is why we need to think of something before we return," Arthur reassured him, "we shall camp out for the night... But not in here. We'll find somewhere secluded in the woods."

Merlin, for the first time in forever it seemed, actually gave a small, faint smile as he listened to Arthur's plan.

"Okay..." he sounded relieved. Relieved to know that Arthur was okay, relieved to know that Arthur would take care of him.

Once they reached the forest, Merlin carrying his satchel that he'd repacked before leaving the abandoned church, Arthur carrying nothing, not even wearing clothing on the top half of his body because it had been ruined, they sat on a log and rested before beginning to search for things they could burn.

The burns on Arthur's body stung and throbbed, and they hadn't even started to blister over. He could hardly bear it, but he had to. The wood that the two of them had found was now in a pile on the floor about three feet away from them, waiting to be lit.

It was cold, really cold. The Prince was now shivering and decided it was probably time to light the fire; after all, he didn't want to freeze to death.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, raising his eyebrow and meeting Merlin's blue-eyed gaze.

"Mmm?" Merlin replied, distracted, now playing with a small twig.

"I was wondering if you..." Arthur knew this might be a bit much to ask of Merlin, asking him to use his magic so soon, but it was necessary, "I was wondering if you could light a fire? You know, using your magic?"

Merlin looked at him, unsure at first; Arthur could see him thinking about it.

"Yeah, okay..." his manservant stretched out his arm and raised his hand over the pile of wood and whispered, "_Baerne..._"

A small fire lit, suddenly giving their surroundings a warm glow, making Arthur feel less cold already.

"Thank you, Merlin," he smiled at him, hoping Merlin would smile back. He did. "I was also wondering... If you could... If you could heal these burns with your magic? Do you have a spell for that, too?" he gestured to his burn-covered body.

Merlin winced at the sight of the red marks that covered his Prince, but nodded.

"I can try..." he turned his whole body to face Arthur, holding his hand just above his chest; he closed his eyes and inhaled, "okay... _Gestathole_."

Arthur felt his skin tingling, he could feel the magic washing over him as it took the pain away. Merlin continued this a few times over various places on Arthur's body, healing the burns completely. Before Merlin had chance to take hands away from Arthur, the Prince had grabbed his hands, holding them to his chest. This time, it was the blonde who leaned in for the kiss, softly pressing his lips to Merlin's, he wasn't sure if this is what Merlin wanted, but he was sure it was what he wanted.

Resting his forehead against Merlin's and breaking the kiss, Arthur whispered against Merlin's lips, "_thank you._"


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin jabbed at the dying fire idly with a stick. Behind him, Arthur gave a loud snore and rolled over on the hard ground, trying to find a more comfortable position to sleep in. The young warlock couldn't help but smile, the first true smile he had displayed in a while.

He sobbed into the darkness but no tears seemed to come. _Typical_, he thought, _I've run myself dry_.

The past few hours had been the strangest and traumatising of his life and, as Merlin raised his hand to where the pendant had been hanging he realised something. There was no light at the end of the tunnel; there was no happy future for him. For Arthur. For either of them.

Sighing, Merlin began to remove his muddy boots. The cold air rushed in and caressed his tired feet, stretching them out in front of him by the fire. He almost felt at home. As if everything would be okay again, even though deep down he knew that it wouldn't.

The forest seemed eerily quiet, as if purposefully leaving Merlin to his own thoughts. But they were torturing him, leering at him, telling him to give up on it all. He chanced a look back at the prince, his blonde hair tousled, his face peaceful, the rug around his wrapped up to his neck to keep him warm. Merlin had been truly happy when he was awake; calming him down and telling him that everything would be fine. Now that he was left to keep watch (he had offered, much to Arthur's distress) the night seemed to weigh down on him and cause the emotions he had tried to bury to bubble to the surface once more.

Merlin buried his face in his hands letting the stick fall to the leafy floor. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? A few days ago he was trotting about the castle running errands for Gaius and polishing armour and mucking out horses and wearing stupid hats to fancy dinners. Arthur had been there, always there, like the friend that he had never had and even though they were master and servant there was always that connection that neither of them could explain. The Great Dragon always said that they were 'two sides of the same coin' and that 'each was the others' destiny' but the warlock knew that it was more. Something deep and meaningful inside both of them that, even though they pretended to bicker and snap at each other, they were really friends.

It seemed that, now, they were more than that.

Merlin didn't mind. He had never really been that close to anyone before, except his mother.

The cold night air whipped the leaves of the trees and on the floor whirling them up into small hurricanes that rustled across the forest floor. Merlin decided that he didn't want to be alone anymore. He contemplated waking Arthur up just so that they could talk but that was always a bad idea. 'A prince needs his beauty sleep' he would always tell him before clouting him about the head and sending his servant on his way. That was their relationship. Hidden at all costs.

Merlin almost laughed. He had moved from one secret to another. Now that his magic was out he wouldn't have to be so sneaky about it, but now he and Arthur had developed this new kind of relationship now _that _would have to be hidden.

"You make me sick."

Merlin dropped his hands down and raised his head. Had he really just heard that? Someone whispering through the trees? Talking to him? He tried to mentally laugh it off, just his imagination. He was stressed and tired and he was just hearing things.

Two large orange orbs seemed to float in the distance and Merlin felt his stomach jolt. Was he being watched? Were those eyes? What sort of creature would have great, big, yellow eyes like that? Within a few seconds they had disappeared and the manservant was staring into the forest at the blackness within. He shook his head and sighed, he _was _just imagining things.

"You're not hearing things," a voice hissed behind him and before he could move he felt cold hands wrap around his mouth and throat. He tried to call out, his eyes darting about in panic but there was nothing he could do. Fingernails digging into his flesh, hands cutting off his air supply, Merlin started to choke, grabbing behind him at his attacker. But whoever it was was far too quick, they caught Merlin's hands in mid-fling and he felt the rough, coarse rub of a rope being slid over them and tied harshly around his wrists. The hand that had been on his throat had disappeared and when it returned it was holding a grubby piece of cloth which was quickly secured around the back of his head.

Merlin wanted to gag. The material was cutting into his mouth, he was biting at it, trying to rip himself free so that he could shout for Arthur. He needed help, he needed to escape. What were they doing to him?

"If you make a sound I will kill your precious prince right now."

The warlock stopped struggling, letting his head fall back as his captor tugged at his hair. A knife was suddenly at his throat, every movement of the muscles in his neck caused the serrated edges to cut into his skin, drawing blood. The face that looked down at him was hooded, unrecognisable in the dark and yet the smile that was just visible seemed somehow familiar. He had seen that smile on every single man he had used his magic on to destroy. It was the smile of a villain.

"Get up," the man hissed and grabbed the rope holding Merlin's wrists together, pulling him to his feet. "Don't make a sound." Nodding slowly, unable to take his eyes off Arthur's sleeping form, he was lead from the clearing, his bare feet cold and dirty, crunching against the leafy ground.

Waking to the smell of the smouldering fire, Arthur shuffled onto his back and opened his eyes gradually, letting his blue eyes adjust to the light. He sat up slowly; his body still ached from the day before. The Prince noticed it was quiet, he noticed that he couldn't hear anything but birds singing in the trees.  
"Merlin?" Arthur looked around, trying to spot his manservant, "MERLIN?" he said it a bit louder this time; he supposed Merlin was probably gathering some more wood. He could feel his heart speeding up as panic set in. Where _was_ he? Surely he couldn't have gone far, Arthur thought, still trying to spot Merlin in the trees.

It wasn't long before Arthur noticed a small piece of parchment underneath a small rock on the ground next to where Merlin had been sitting. He got up, feeling the cold air bite at his skin, and the rough ground scratch at his feet. Trying not to shiver, he walked over and picked up the note that had been left. Arthur read the note over in his head, feeling anger rise as he did. The note had said:

PENDRAGON

WE HAVE YOUR PRETTY LITTLE SERVANT.

WE'RE HOLDING HIM AT OUR CAMP WHICH YOU CAN FIND IN A CAVE, TWO MILES NORTH FROM WHERE YOU ARE. GO IN THE DIRECTION OF THE LARGEST TREE.

ARE YOU WILLING TO GIVE YOUR LIFE FOR HIS?

YOU HAVE UNTIL DUSK.

WE'RE WAITING.

He'd only just got Merlin back; he didn't want to lose him again, of course he was going to go. All he had to do now was figure out which way was north. The note had said something about a large tree, which Arthur assumed was probably the oak tree that was situated to his right. After gathering the things that Merlin had had to leave behind into the satchel, Arthur noticed his manservant's boots, lying on the floor next to the log that Merlin had been sitting on. He decided to try and fit them into the satchel too; rolling them up as tightly as he could, after all, Merlin would need them later.

Arthur pulled on his own boots and finally set off in the direction of the large oak tree, looking for any evidence that Merlin's abductors had passed this way. Luckily, he came across some footprints, and also a trail that suggested something had been dragged along the muddy forest floor.

The Prince walked through the trees carefully and slowly, looking at the floor, searching it with his eyes. He didn't want to become lost, he would never find Merlin if he did. He decided the journey would probably take him to sundown at the rate he was going, but he didn't care as long as he was on time and actually got there in one piece, it was the only way he could save Merlin.

The sun was beginning to set now; it had been hours since Arthur had started the search for the camp where Merlin was being held. _Surely I'm nearly there, _Arthur thought as he stopped and rested on a tree, trying to figure out where he was. He swore he could feel someone watching him, he swore he could see things moving in the trees. Dark figures. Maybe he was seeing things; he'd been walking for ages, only taking small rests every now and again. He'd even ended up passing the same large rock twice before realising he was probably going the wrong way.

He heard something; voices. He was sure of it this time.

"Show yourself!" Arthur called out, taking the red-jewel encrusted knife out of the satchel.

"Well of course, _Prince _Arthur," he heard a voice from behind him, shortly followed by a cold, sharp point on the small of his bare back. "How nice of you to come. You must care a great deal about the pretty little servant of yours."

Arthur was helpless, all he had in his hand was a small knife, and he was now surrounded by cloaked, masked figures.

Merlin was lead through the woods in total silence. His eyes had finally become accustomed to the dark that they had been thrown into and they were darting about the surroundings. It was still the forest, he could be sure of that; there wasn't any light from the moon, the only glow was from a few torches that his captors were holding. Two hooded men in strange masks had joined Merlin's original captor, and they had now been equipped with large spears and would point them menacingly at him if he dared turn to look at them.

The sharp sting of one stuck into his back, he could feel it ripping through his jacket, through his shirt and into the skin on his back.

"Keep moving," the man hissed, jabbing Merlin a second time.

"M-tr-inn," the warlock furrowed his brow, trying to speak through the gag.

"And keep quiet."

Merlin rolled his eyes. These guys were pushy, a lot more than the villains and rogues that mucked up the prince's and his manservant's lives ordinarily were. They wanted something, they must've known the inside outs of Arthur and Merlin's day, where they would be, when they had fallen asleep. That Arthur would actually come and rescue Merlin. If they didn't know Arthur they wouldn't know that he was the kind of prince to go out and risk his life and throne just to save the life of a lowly servant.

He laughed, feeling tears prick at his eyes.

"I said keep quiet," another hard poke in the back with the spear. Merlin hissed in pain and began to move a little faster.

"What are we going to do with the wretch, boss?" a voice came from Merlin's right, he tried to turn his head but it was stiff from being forced to face the front for so long. He saw a blurry shape from the corner of his eye, it shifted excitedly, the spear it was holding wobbling precariously in its grip.

"The silence is not just for him to withhold. You need to be silent aswell."

"But boss," the figure protested. "I made some new equipment. I wanted to try it out."

The captor behind Merlin sighed.

"Fine."

There was a small cheer of rejoicing from the man to Merlin's right.

The forest suddenly seemed to stop. It surprised Merlin at first and he almost stopped himself, if it hadn't been for the violent jab in his back telling him to keep moving. There was a small selection of straw houses in front of the gaping mouth of a large cave. The sun had set and yet small children were playing in front of a large bonfire, seemingly happy. It was strange how they seemed so complacent and yet there was a kidnappee standing right near them. Kidnappee? Was that a word?

Merlin had little time to contemplate it as a gruff voice whispered in his ear; "Around the back of the houses, we don't want to make a scene in front of the children, do we?"

The warlock shook his head firmly, unable to take his eyes off of the amazing fire that was flickering away, made even more beautiful by the moonlight that was shining through the clearing. Quickly moving behind the houses, Merlin was quickly ushered into the large cave, further and further in, the wonderful fire, its warmth and welcoming appearance becoming smaller and smaller as they ventured further in.

They reached a strange niche in the centre of the cave, an odd circular shape with what looked like chains upon the ceiling from which were hanging strange rags. They stopped, and Merlin could feel his captors untying the bonds around his wrists, but he could not take his eyes from the chains. He couldn't work out exactly what was hanging from them, and then it hit him. The rags were attached to something else. Bones. Skeletal forms of the men that had once hung from them, left to rot and die. The warlock's eyes darted about him. He didn't want to die in this cave, alone and in the dark. The only light source was the men's torches, and those did nothing to help Merlin's nerves, only cast eerie shadows upon the walls.

"Stay there. If you move we _will _run you through," his original captor told him, as he moved towards the wall where a large wheel was embedded there. With all his might, it seemed, he spun it and slowly the chains descended from the ceiling. Merlin took a step backwards.

"I said _don't move_," the man screamed, and within moments his sword was at Merlin's throat.

"M-orry," he tried, raising his eyebrows in an apologetic manner.

"Mm," the man contemplated, staring from deep blue eyes into Merlin's own. The chains had now lowered so that the skeletons' bent and gnarled feet were just brushing against the floor. The other two men, who were still masked, began to unlock the chains about the bony wrists of the figure and, once finished, threw him to one side. His eye sockets seemed to watch Merlin with sickly curiosity.

"Get him in," the un-masked man ordered, and the manservant was quickly thrown forward, the chains tightening around his arms, he felt his body being hauled upwards until, now, his feet were just brushing against the floor. It felt as if his arms were slowly being pulled from their sockets, the pain was almost unbearable.

Even though he had told himself he wouldn't, forced himself to be strong, he began to panic. It flooded over him like water, and he could help but cry out, cry out for Arthur. He called his name once, twice, three times, but all he could feel was the gag slipping further and further into his mouth, causing him to gag.

"No one'll hear you in here," his captor told him, and Merlin could just imagine him smirking. "You're all alone."

Nodding to his colleges, the man picked up his torch- his gang members following suit- and they turned to leave.

"Mmmm!" Merlin cried, trying to get them to stay, but they weren't listening.

"Goodbye young warlock," the man called behind him, his retreating figure waving sarcastically. "Let's hope your precious prince arrives in time otherwise who _knows _what might happen!"

The light faded away and all Merlin could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat and the rattling of the chains as he struggled to free himself. He was well and truly alone.

Arthur was trapped. He had no way of escaping - not without being impaled upon the blades that were pointing at him and gleaming in the light. He could still feel the coolness upon his bare back, the sharp edge of the knife nicking his skin slightly. The Prince thought about turning quickly and stabbing the stranger behind him with his own knife, but realised this wasn't a smart move. He would be killed by the others in two seconds, and he couldn't risk that. _I need to find Merlin, _Arthur thought, still trying to calculate any available escape options in his head, _but I can't do that if I'm dead._ Arthur tensed when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, which then moved onto his neck. He began to struggle against the grip on his throat, still trying to keep the blade that was being held to the small of his back from digging in.

"Stop moving," a voice hissed in his ear as the grip on his neck tightened, "drop the knife. Do you want to see your _servant_ again?"

Arthur stopped struggling and dropped the knife; at this point he would do anything to see Merlin again.

"Where _is _he?" the Prince managed to choke out, the hold on his throat had been loosened slightly, but the dagger on his back was held firmer.

"I wonder what your father would think if he found out about him..." the masked figure bypassed Arthur's question, "I wonder what your father would think about _you_ and him. Oh, if only he knew..."

"Where is he?!" Arthur repeated, this time with more anger and hatred in his voice, he was past being reasonable, "I demand that you take me to him!"

The man laughed in amusement at Arthur's anger, it was clearly what he wanted. He obviously wanted to mess with Arthur's head.

"All in good time _Prince Arthur_," the stranger was now laughing again, but mockingly this time, "men! Restrain the Prince; we don't want him trying to escape again, do we?"

Before Arthur even had time to process the orders the men had just been given in his head, he was being forced to his knees by three hooded figures. Two of them had grabbed his arms and the other one had pushed him down and was now tying his wrists behind his back. The man that was previously stood behind him was now stood in front of him, pointing a sword at the Prince's throat and smiling down at him.

"You know, I could easily kill you right now," he moved the end of the sword to Arthur's chin and forced him to lift his head, "but that would be too easy. Where would the fun be?"

Arthur scowled at him, but said nothing.

"Oh, so you're being quiet now are you?" the man raised an eyebrow, still smiling at the Prince, "does this mean we don't have to make you be quiet? We had to gag your mouthy servant – Merlin's his name isn't it?"

The blonde thought about not saying anything again, but the urge to say _something_ was too strong.

"You better not have hurt him!" Of course, Arthur knew that they probably had; they certainly didn't seem like gentle people.

"And what are you going to do about it if I have, _Sire?_" whoever this person was, they loved humiliating Arthur, "you're certainly not in any position to make threats. I've heard enough from you Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur was taken aback. _But I haven't said hardly anything,_ he thought.

"Wha-" he was cut short by the man who barked an order at one of his followers.

"Gag him, too. Then get him up and follow me."

Another man moved swiftly towards Arthur, and before he knew it, a piece of fabric was being forced into his mouth and tied tightly behind his head, catching his blonde hair in the knot. It tasted awful. Like dirt, and what Arthur could only think was sweat. He was then pulled to his feet roughly and the two men began to drag him. The Prince was being dragged by his arms along the forest floor; he didn't even have time to find his feet so that he could walk.

It wasn't long before they reached the mouth of a large cave, after passing a lot of small houses, a village even, with people everywhere. Arthur was astonished to see how peaceful these people were, and wondered if they knew what really went on, wondered if they knew that these men liked kidnapping Princes and their servants.

They lead him down a long, black tunnel, only stopping once they reached a large circular area of the cave, only the odd torch lighting it. They threw the blonde to the floor; he winced as the rough ground grazed his bare skin. It was only when he looked up that the Prince saw him. Saw him hanging by his wrists, his feet not even touching the ground. It was Merlin. Arthur tried to look away, but his captor suddenly gripped his face and _made_ him look at his manservant, who was obviously in agony.

"You can free him, Arthur," the familiar voice of his kidnapper whispered in his ear, "all you have to do is take his place."


End file.
